


The Anchor

by aqualewdity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Science Fiction, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqualewdity/pseuds/aqualewdity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100 years after the Electronic War, the Earth is scorched and barely survivable. Stiles wakes from a life of terror, free from slavery, free from torture, and right in the middle of the Earth's only group of people fighting for peace.  The Anchor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Orientation

**Author's Note:**

> Post Apocalyptic AU. It was gonna be Sciam but I decided to get back to my roots and love of Sciles. Hope you enjoy!

It was like there a thousand people screaming in his head.  He remembered friends, family, loved ones, all faceless and dark now.  Everything was dark now.  But the screams stayed like echoes reverberating in the smallest room, never losing momentum.  On and on they went and he couldn’t break free, it seemed, unless he screamed himself.  So he began to, trying to create enough of a space between who he was and who they were.  He couldn’t tell if it was working but it was definitely better than taking it without a fight.  He couldn’t remember much, but he knew he was a fighter.

 

Then, in groups, the screams started to disappear.  They were taken over by this rumbling that started to grow louder and louder as the screams went away.  He remembered he had heard the sound once or twice before.  It was an engine.

 

“Hey,”  a voice said.  She was loud but somehow soothing.  “Hey, come on kid!  Wake up!!!”

 

When he awoke, the images weren’t clear.  There was metal and people, and cloth with sunlight sticking peeking through. And the engine rumbling and…

 

Sunlight.

 

He hadn’t seen it in years.  It was real.  It wasn’t a part of his young imagination and he could see it and confirm.  It made him focus; if the sun was real, what else was here?  

 

His eyes finally rested on the person who was forcing him conscience.  The first thing he noticed was her jet black hair.  It was defining where she came from.  And then came her smile.  That defined who she was now.  No one smiled anymore.

 

“Hey,” she spoke again.  “You’re Stiles, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah,”  Stiles said, his voice hoarse.

 

“Great.  I’m Kira.  Welcome to the Anchor.”

 

The name triggered something in Stiles.  His heart was racing.  “The Anchor.”  It was as if his brain was trying to place it and acting violently when it couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe.  He started to jerk around and Kira began to hold him back but within seconds she released.  Maybe she could see what he needed more than he could.

 

He scrambled around the large vehicle, glancing at Kira, the young boy behind him, the wooden crates on metal seats.  It was too much.  He needed to  get some air.  He needed to go outside.  He needed to see the sun.

 

Stiles scrambled over to the edge where the metal met the cloth roof and stuck his head through.  The sight was more amazing and terrifying than he ever thought possible.  The sun was bright and blinding.  It was yellow and red and orange as it illuminated the sand below.  And that’s all there was.  Sand for miles and miles.  Besides the sun, making it brighter and more orange, it wasn’t that different from the mines.

 

The mines.  Memories kept hitting Stiles over the head and he was physically feeling the weight of it.  It shocked him back on the bed of the truck.  His breathing was still pretty erratic.

 

“Liam get some water from the crate.  The young boy moved on command and came back with a animal skin sack.  He helped Stiles drink, which Stiles did without resistance.  He didn’t know who these people were but they weren’t in the mines.  They had to at least be better than that.

 

“The...the mines,”  Stiles coughed out.

  
“Try to remember,” Kira said.

 

There was a raid.  Stiles remembered there were always raids.  People who weren’t doing well in the mines, who weren’t working as hard as the others would get taken.  They would be stripped away from their family and sold to the highest bidder who needed a human shield or a concubine.  It was heartbreaking but a fact of life and most people tried to make sure it never happened to them.  It was usually only four or five a month.  But this was different.

 

Everyone was being taken.  They were separating by gender which broke up families.  Then by numbers which separated people even further.  Finally enough was enough and there were riots and screaming, so much screaming.  Then the guards pulled tranq guns, then real guns and then, at least for Stiles, everything went dark.

 

“We got you out of there Stiles,”  Kira said, shocking him out of his trip down memory lane. “We saved you.  No more slavery.  No more mines.  You’re free.”

 

Kira’s words weren’t making sense.  Stiles had spent what seemed like his entire life in those mines.  He used to know what time felt like and how the sun got hot on his skin, but they all seemed like kids’ stories after awhile.  It was just work until a break for food or rest.  You peed and shat where you worked but you got used to the smell after awhile.  Nothing could slow down the process.  And if family slowed down the process, that problem was eliminated.

 

Then Stiles remembered.  “Kira.  My father?”

 

It was the first time he saw Kira’s expression change.  And it wasn’t a good one.

 

“Sorry, kid.  You were the only one we could pull out.  The mines...they’re always a hard bargain.”

 

Stiles thought about crying, but he didn’t have the energy or maybe the tears to do so.  He had stopped crying years ago.  Crying also seemed like something he made up long ago.

 

“Boss,” a guy called from the front.

 

“What do we got?”  So this Kira’s the boss of the Anchor, Stiles thought.

 

“Scavengers coming up. Both flanks and dead center,”  a .girl answered.  Stiles peered through the little carriage window and could see the girl was the one driving.  Her red hair was reflecting in the sunlight.

 

“Lyd, stay on course.  Drive through the fuckers.  Liam radio the order to the rest.  Scott!  You’re with me.  Keep your puppy safe.”

 

“I’m not his puppy,”  Liam spat.

 

Kira’s orders were followed without thought.  Liam got on the radio and started speaking.  The guy named Scott opened up his passenger door and flung himself to the back of the truck.  He was darker than the other two, with a crooked jaw that was so prominent due to him smirking. Stiles figured he smirked a lot.

 

Stiles was ready to gaze at the beautiful man a bit more but his eyes refocused on the bag Scott brought down on the truck bed.  He opened it revealing  a sword and a huge shiny axe.  Stiles had heard stories of the Anchor but definitely didn’t think the sword-wielding part was accurate.

 

“Sorry, we’ll have to do the rest of orientation after,” Scott said to him with a smile.  Stiles felt his heart flutter, and then his brain condemning his feelings and the worst time.

 

“Don’t be mean to the Nil,” Kira said.  “ Take your sassiness out on the Scavs.”

 

“Oh they probably love me more than you do.”

 

“Easy, sparky.”

 

Stiles watched as Kira brandished the sword and Scott took hold of the axe.  Then, when they nodded at each other, Kira nodded at Liam at the end.  He pushed a button and the cloth roof went flying, sun blinding Stiles and seemingly no one else.  He had to blink a few times until he saw them.

 

There were dozens of humanoids scattered across the sands.  Something different was off with each one.  Some had arms that were way too long.  Some of them had enlarged jaws that could probably swallow Stiles whole.  Each of them had patches of skin that looked normal and others that were black and silver.  And the worst part was they began running and jumping up to the moving truck.

 

Stiles let out a scream that was cut off by Scott’s axe decapitating one of the creatures right before it reached the edge.  Kira followed up slashing two in the air and putting her back to Scott so they couldn’t be blind sighted.

 

“Those are...are,” Stiles couldn’t get the words out.

 

“Scavengers.  Yes, we said that,” Kira answered, not taking her eyes off the battle.

 

“Like Digi-Scavengers?  They’re real?!”

 

“Liam,” Kira called, ignoring the newbie, “Get A2 on the radio and tell them to stop being little bitches!”

 

“I am not saying that,” Liam said.  But he got on the radio anyway.

 

The moment Stiles just started to get a grasp on one concept he was bombarded with another.  A2?  Then, Stiles thought for a minute and turned around.

 

As far as he could see there were three maybe four other trucks, each holding who knows how many other people.  The Anchor stories were always told like a band of heroes or a single sword carrying warrior.  But this was an army.

 

Like clockwork, the cloth roofs flew open one after the other.  Apparently that wasn’t good enough for the boss, since she stepped over Stiles and grabbed Liam’s radio.

 

“You guys got other shit to do?! Allison, Issac, let’s go!”

 

Stiles watched as two people from each truck stood up with their respective weapons.  A boy and girl for each.  They were swinging and shooting, arrows and Scavengers flying out of the sky and rolling over the sand.  

 

“You losin’ count with all that talking, boss,” Stiles heard over the radio.  This made Kira laugh as she continued cutting and slashing.

 

Who the hell are these people?

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the enemy began to fall back into the distance.  Some were still running while others realized the futile effort and continued wandering the  empty wasteland.

 

The radio crackled a bit before someone broke through.  “Boss, potty break.  One of the drones took out our left tire.  We need to patch up if we’re gonna make it to Sanc before night.”

 

Kira cursed under her breath and the gave the ok over radio.  She tapped the top of the truck a few times to signal the driver and soon everything came to a stop.

 

Liam started to step out but then stopped and turned around to Stiles.  He was still stunned, not sure what to make of the last few moments.

 

“Hey, you should go first.  First time on the new Earth, ya know?  We’ve all been there.”

 

Stiles decided to go with it, with everything.  He couldn’t explain everything right away and trying was becoming taxing.  But these people said they saved his life in the mines and, even if he was skeptical.  They saved his life today.  

 

The moment he hit the sand was the moment Stiles realized he had on different clothes.  Usually, he work a sack and sandals.  The sack was to make relieving yourself easier and protect from the cold and the sandals was to not cut yourself and obtain some disease in the mines.  But now he had on pants, a t-shirt and even a scarf he had seen guards wear when they went topside.  They changed him.  They saw him intimately but in his mind, that was one  strike on the bad side versus three on the good.  There was still no reason to run and no where to run to.

 

The red headed girl stepped out of the driver seat as the others came and either stood around Stiles or checked the truck for damages. Kira was kind of doing both.

 

Stiles was finally awake enough to speak properly.  And he had enough information to be confused for years.

 

“What is really going on,” he asked.  Kira simply sighed and smiled at his confusion.

 

“Well first, again I’m Kira.  That’s Scott, Lydia and little Liam over there.”

 

“I’m not little,” Liam said.

 

“Ok. Go sharpen the weapons.”  Liam smiled at Kira’s orders and ran off.  Scott followed, rolling his eyes at the boys’ excitement.

 

“You’ll meet the others later.  So, we’re taking a five. Do you wanna sit?  Get more water?  Shit?  You can dig a whole.”

 

“I want more info.”

 

“Right right,” Kira said, still smiling.  It was becoming less gentle and more playful.  Stiles wasn’t playing.  But Kira was quicker than he thought.

 

“Look, Stiles right?  How good is your world history?  Electronic War to be specific.”

 

“I know as much as most,” he said.  But it was a lie.  The Electronic War was something the guards used to scare the miners.  But his dad always told him to ignore the stories.  Just focus on the work.

 

“Well,” Kira said.  “Most miners or sex slaves are out of the loop so let me refresh.  Over a hundred years ago, the war the scorched the earth and almost killed all life on earth was finally ended when one side decided to sever all ties with electronics.  They ran our life from waking us up in the morning to fighting our battles for us.  All of it was gone in an instant and suddenly people didn’t know what to do.  The ones who needed it like drugs tried and tried to reboot the system and the did.  Well sort of.  You know how when you touch someone for the first time and you get that shock?”

 

Stiles nodded, though remembering that Kira and Liam didn’t shock him.  That only meant that they probably were the specific ones fishing him out of the mines and shocked him then.

 

“That shock is signals intersecting.   The only thing left in most of us are the signal that we used to use connect to all our tech.  Now it’s used to wipe us out or enslave us.  The more people around, the stronger the crossing signals.  The stronger the signals, the easier it is for members of T-Storm to come in and burn a town to the ground.”

 

“T-Storm?”  Stiles asked.  Lydia answered from behind him.

 

“Descendants  of the wrong side of the Electronic War.  They think that the people who don’t want tech are the future generations of the enemy, so they’re just on a mission to kill everyone they can find.”

 

“And that’s where we come in,” Kira said.  “We set up safe havens like Sanc where people can live.  We keep those protect those places with everything we’ve got and we save Nil’s like you while fighting off the bad guys.”

 

Stiles’ mouth was open.  The stories weren’t made up.  The idea that one day a group of warriors called the Anchor would swoop in and save everyone wasn’t a myth. They were people, doing good and helping.  The only issue with the legend was that they could save everyone in it.  In real life, they were just people. And Stiles’ dad was just one life too many to stick their necks out for.  It hurt, but such was life.  It was always just “life.”

  
“So,” Kira said,  her smile coming back, “You ready to find a new home?”


	2. The Initiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles learns a lot more about Scott and about Sanc.

Stiles’ ride in the back of the truck was calm for the most part.  Everything was new to him and seemed to be coming a mile a minute.  He learned that the Anchor had gotten bigger over the last ten years but Kira oversaw the one in the area.  The second truck was led by Isaac and the third by Allison.  The last was a girl named Malia who was Kira’s second in command. Each one went to a different mine and tried to collect as many people as possible  They always kept moving from one city to the next to keep their signals from being traced and only stopping when they need to, or in Stiles case, to drop off people they rescued.

 

Stiles was slowly coming to terms with that idea.  He was rescued, broken free out of a pact that his father made as a very last resort.

 

People were told the Earth was still dying after the war.  The only way to protect everyone and future generations was to work in the mines and try to find more natural resources.  Stiles father quickly learned that the resources collected were for the people who could afford them.  The miners were scared into staying and working until they were beaten into staying and working.  Stiles’ mom died and so the guards took him to go work with his father.  He didn’t see the sun again.  That was until now.

 

Lydia knocked on the carriage window which signaled a switch.  Scott took Kira’s place in the back to entertain Stiles, which Stiles couldn’t complain about if he tried.  The man was rugged because of his job but it was obvious that there was a gentleness underneath.  Stiles was apprehensive with most of the gang he met, but Scott put him at ease, even while smirking.

 

Scott looked past Stiles and laughed a bit.  Stiles turned around to see Liam dozing and trying really hard to stay focused. Stiles wondered how he became a member.  He couldn’t have been older than 15, though with the displacement of time in the mines, Stiles didn’t really know his own age at this point.

 

“Hey, little one,” Scott called.  It made Liam jump up and try to refocus which made the other two boys laugh.

 

“I’m fine,” he said.

 

“Get over here.  You’re off duty until Sanc.”  Liam started to move but then looked back at Stiles, wary of his next action.  Scott only sighed.

 

“The Nil’s not gonna judge you, babe.”

 

With that, Liam moved over and laid his head in Scott’s lap.  It only took a few strokes through his hair before Scott and Stiles could hear the wheezing sounds of a much needed slumber.  It made Scott smile again.

 

“Kid’s got spirit.  But no one can resist rest.”

 

“Why do you call me that,” Stiles asked bluntly.  He wanted to take it back but it was there now and Scott’s attention was his.

 

“What? Kid?”

 

“Nil.”

 

“Oh,” Scott smirked.  “It’s short for Vanilla.  It’s just a shorthand way of saying you worked in the mines.  Most of those people are super pale from living underground for so long. Even the little one here was a Nil not too long ago.”

 

Stiles looked at the sleeping Liam.  His hair was spiky and blonde but that was the lightest thing about him.  Everywhere else he could see was tanned and glowing, like even under the cloth roof, the sun was still on his side.  Stiles looked at his own skin and wondered when he would stop being a Nil.  When would his old life become just another made up story?

 

“So what about you,” Stiles asked.

 

“Oh, born and raised topside.  Lived in Tower for a while, another haven.  Until I decided to join the Anchor.  It’s been nothing but open road and kung fu fights for years.”

 

“What about your family?”

 

“It’s just my mom at Tower.  Besides those towns are much safer with me protecting things.  You have first hand experience in that.”

 

Stiles matched Scott’s smirk with a smile of his own.  That is until he remembered how he got in truck.  He was taken, stripped and changed.  Scott was probably there when he was....

 

Stiles touched the new clothes he was wearing unconsciously.  Then, as Scott noticed, he turned blushed.  And with being a Nil and all, Stiles knew his cheeks probably looked like he’d been smacked in the face a few times.

 

Scott just laughed.  “Don’t worry.  Saving you was strictly business.  And getting you changed meant seeing nothing I haven’t seen before.”

 

Stiles let out a tiny sigh.

 

“Now if you ask me if I enjoyed seeing it.  Well that’s a different story.”

 

The rest of the time spent on the truck was everything but relaxing.  Stiles would stare at Scott while he was looking out through the opening or dozing off himself.  Scott would meet his eyes and Stiles would sheeply turn away.  This happened a couple more times until Stiles found himself to be tired as well.

 

Sleeping was difficult too.  The engine was so loud and the radio would crackle every now and then, jerking him awake.  He thought he’d never get any kind of significant rest.  Then he closed his eyes, and opened to everything being changed.

 

Liam was back at his post, Scott was away again and Kira was keeping watch over Stiles.  He could also see as the cover flapped in the wind that the sun was gone. Night, he thought.  The one thing that hasn’t changed in all these years.

 

The truck slowed to a halt.  Kira checked outside and then nodded to Liam who unhooked the door and stepped out.  Stiles didn’t at first, wary of this new territory.  For a second it was as if being in the truck with these people was all a dream.  A warrior woman, her gorgeous sidekick, a fiery red speed racer and their plucky assistant.  Some superhero fantasy he was living that would be interrupted by a whipping or water splashing on his face that would tell him rest was over and work was starting again.  But stepping out of the truck, reaching their destination meant that it wasn’t a dream after all.  He was really free.  And his father was really gone.

 

“Hey Stiles,”  Liam called with a smile.  “Welcome to Sanc.”

  
  


Sanc was innovative to say the least.  Every building was one level but that definitely didn’t stop them from being grand.  There was a central building, probably some type of town hall, with a medwing on the side and various homes in between.  Each building was an amalgamation of metals and wire with covering overhead, probably to dampen the signal even more.  And there were guards at every major intersection. But despite them, Sanc seemed like a peaceful place.

 

Stiles couldn’t help but wonder how a place like this exists.  But as the Anchor crew were welcomed back with a crowd of excited people, he realized the answer was right in front of his face.

 

They were treated like the heroes they were.  But it was more than that.  They were treated like family.

 

Liam called for a boy named Mason, a darker skinned guy that looked about his age and they hugged and started talking about Liam’s adventures.  Lydia moved to the men and women from the medical wing and hugs and kisses were given way before status reports.  Scott and another guy from one of the other trucks let the children pile on top of them.  Kira gave out a twenty minute time limit, but even she seemed happy to be back.  This was all...real.

 

Isaac, Allison and Malia began introducing their rescued to a guy Stiles guessed was in charge.  His hair was completely white and and he looked tired but his face was nothing but welcoming.  Stiles could hear him repeat some of the names.  One of the guy’s names was Brett.  Someone was named Tracy.  Another Matt.  And then, before he knew it, Stiles himself was being rushed over to meet the old man.

 

“And who might you be, child,” the man said.

 

“Uh, hi.  I’m Stiles.”

 

The man smiled and grasped Stiles’ hand. They shocked each other, the normal electric bolt when meeting another person.  Stiles was reminded of Kira’s words about crossing signals.  It was also a reminder of everything they do here.

 

.  “Stiles.  My name is Chris.  But most people just call me Gran.  I’m not the boss though.  I leave that up to the younger folks.”

 

He chuckled a bit.  That old person chuckle that tries to make everything ok.  Stiles had heard it before but this time, it was actually a comfort.

 

The man told him how no one is really “in charge” at Sanc.  People do what they please and since they know how dangerous it is to not be at a haven under the protection of the Anchor, most incidents are treated calmly and patiently.  It almost sounded too good to be true, but with the idea that stepping out of the town could cost you your life and everyone you know, it pretty much was.

 

“Boyd will show you to your room.  You’ll stay with the other Nil’s until you do your Sunrise, then we can find you a space.”

 

Chris gestured to a tall dark skinned man whose face was as fearsome as his height.  He tried to fix a smile on his face but it wasn’t exactly welcoming.  Still, Stiles knew he hadn’t been steered wrong yet.

 

A couple steps toward the man and he was interrupted by Scott stepping in front of him.

 

“I’ll take him Boyd,” he said.  “VIP tour.”  Scott winked which made Boyd only roll his eyes and walk away.

 

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh.  Like really laugh.  Scott was funny and sweet.  It was so strange to be this happy in dark times.

 

Scott turned toward his commanding officer only to see her and Chris veering off.  “We need to speak,” was whispered and they began walking which only seemed to give Scott more fervor to press forward.

 

Stiles and he walked all over the small town, identifying resources, meeting places and housing.  They passed the Nil’s housing which seemed larger but not large enough for four or so people.  Still, Stiles didn’t complain.  It was better than a corner in an underground cell.

 

“And this is me.  Well, me and Liam.  Well, me, Liam and Mason when I’m feeling up to it.”

“Is he like your brother,” Stiles asked.  Scott only smiled at the idea.

 

“No, not by blood.  Brother, son, something in between.  Bottom line we take care of each other.  He was a Nil just like you.  Thrown to the mines at the fresh age of six.  We tracked the facility down minutes before they were going to close the deal on selling him as a sex slave to some mercs in the east.  I’ve never seen someone so grateful to be outside.  So grateful that is, that he stowed away in Allison’s truck when we took off from Sanc.  That’s where I was stationed.  Don’t let him fool you, he’s a fighter for the right reasons.  And he fought to never leave my side.  So now, he never does.”

 

Scott went on a bit about finding Mason and Liam having a friend, Liam and Scott visiting Scott’s mom at Tower, and even some adventures where having a young kid wasn’t exactly protocol. Stiles could see the love Scott had for his charge.  He probably told that story a million times and Scott was more than willing to tell it once more.  Stiles couldn’t help but start to fall for him.  He was like a true storybook hero.

 

“What’s a Sunrise?”  Stiles brought it up as they traveled back to the edge of town.

 

“Well you see, when the sun goes bye bye at night time, don’t you worry because it comes back and says hello in about nine hours.”

 

“Not that sunrise.  Chris said something about ‘my sunrise’.”

 

“Oh yeah. Gran’s very big on rituals and traditions and things.  It’s basically as symbolic way of getting rid of your Nil status.  The you stand at the edge of town completely disrobed as the sun rises on your skin.  It’s supposed to be you darkening your skin and leaving behind the pale person who was enslaved for most of his life.  Then when the sun’s completely off the horizon they find you another place to stay and no one would call you a Nil again.  Who knows; maybe after your sunrise you’ll room with me.”

 

Stiles stopped in his tracks.  The flirting wasn’t even noticed.  Even Kira calling Scott over and away from him wasn’t noticed.  Stiles could do a sunrise.  He could be initiated into this group of wonderful people.  He could really be home.  It seemed so inviting.  But as he looked at the now serious faces of the crew he just left, he was reminded not everything was as easy and beautiful as a sunrise.

 

Stiles ran over hearing the end of the conversation.  Kira was giving out orders and giving the lowdown on something.

 

“It’s gonna be dangerous.  Step-up-your-game dangerous.  Definitely Scavs in larger numbers.  Possibly some Storms.  And we won’t be back here for weeks.”

 

“But we just got here,” Liam said softly.

 

“Hey, I know.  And I’m gonna miss this people too but to make sure they’re still here to miss we have a job to do.  You have a job to do.”  Liam nodded at Kira’s words.

 

“I wanna help!”  Stiles didn’t realize what he said until it was out of his mouth.  But something was stirring in him.  People smiled topside, actually smiled.  There were things to hope for, things to battle and things to protect.  Stiles wanted to protect those smiles.  He didn’t want to stay home and work.  He couldn’t anymore.

 

“Stiles you just got here,” Kira said.  “You’re weak from the trip and rightfully so,  This is our fight.  Let us do it.”

 

“But I can help.  I can fight.  I want to fight.”

 

“Why?”  The words came out of the girl with dark brown hair.  Stiles remembered her with the bow and arrow.  She was Allison and she didn’t really look happy to see him.

 

“What?”

 

“Why do you want to fight?”

 

“Because...I don’t want to waste the chance you guys gave me.  I want to do something with it.”

 

Everyone was stone faced.  They took in Stiles words carefully.  He almost was sure what he sound was stupid and clearly not the right answer but Scott’s smirk said different.  Kira stepped forward.

  
“Alright, kid.  You got one shot at this.”


	3. The Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles first mission doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was longer than I expected but whatevs. I'm feeling this idea and hope I can end it well

Stiles wasn’t exactly thrilled about being on the last truck.  He’d spent hours learning about Kira and her section only to be put at the back of the proverbial class.  And, though he would never admit it outloud, he was the furthest away from Scott he had been since being freed.  He was just getting used to these people but the mission had to come first.

Kira explained before they left that they were heading in an OC, which was shorthand for an old abandoned city.  Cities were too large and it made it easy to find and kill people.  But the Anchor used them to their advantage.  They set up signal relays to mask  and copy the crossing streams in the havens.  That way, Scavengers would track the signal in the city but, with no people, would wander aimlessly.  Anyone smarter than that wouldn’t be able to figure out where the original signals were coming from with the physical relay which was, of course very well hidden.  The relay was cutting in and out and so the entire team had to go figure out why, which now included Stiles, though he was stationed at the rear.

Malia’s truck wasn’t exactly child’s play.  Lying on the floor was a one sided axe and a two handed crossbow.  When Malia was back there she wouldn’t stop staring at them, just in case action needed to be taken.  Her cousin Derek didn’t seem as ready to fight at a moment’s notice, but his features alone seemed worn from many battles.  None of these people were rookies, which made Stiles feel even more isolated.

During the middle of the day on their 24 hour road trip, Stiles felt comfortable enough to move on from small talk and once in a while murmurs to ask Derek more about the Anchor.  He seemed like the more approachable one since Malia liked violence more than talking and Danny never got out of the driver seat.

“Are there ranks,” he asked.  “I mean I know Kira’s the boss.”

“Yeah and Malia is her second.  Which only really comes in to play when the two of them have to go off and do diplomacy shit.  Being part of the Anchor isn’t all hack and slash.”

Derek looked exhausted.  They all did but he was different.  He seemed so much older than Kira and had probably seen a lot more fights than her.  Stiles was definitely not one to butt in on internal affairs but the thought of how things are assigned crossed his mind.

“The guards at the mines were really established.  Ranks, codes, secret languages and hand signs.  Most people didn’t know what was going on.”

“But you did,” Derek affirmed.

“I said most people.”  Stiles was feeling a bit more confident.  At the very least about what he could contribute to the team.

“Well, Stiles we do it a little differently on the good side.  Malia’s diplomatic status doesn’t matter in battle because it’s rare that all four trucks are at the same place.  In battle and on missions there’s the leader of the truck, their backup and medical.  Medics are also usually the one driving the truck.

“Why?”

“It’s a lot easier to get to the person you need to help if there’s a big metal object to run over enemies with.”

Derek and Malia were cousins and on the same team for a reason.  T-Storm, mercs and slaveowners who still called themselves “government” were all about families being separated.  The Anchor decided to combat that.  As long as family members are willing to fight they would fight by each other’s side.  Derek even mentioned that Allison’s convoy was her and twin boys.  Stiles thought about how Liam was in the first one with Scott. It made sense.

Stiles took some of the time on the trip to think about what his father would say if her were around.  The idea of sticking together was always their main focus when it came to the mines.  He would push Stiles hard to work and at first, Stiles cried and screamed, hating his father.  But after feeling the pain of the guards’ boots, or sticking his head in the only available water, trying to drown, Stiles realized what his father was doing.  He was trying to make sure he was strong enough to survive.  He wanted them, needed them to stick together and if Stiles couldn’t pull his weight, they’d find a better use for him which usually involved the highest price.

So Stiles pushed.  He worked hard and he fought to survive.  He took the beatings that he got just for breathing and tried his best to find more natural resources, even after he figured out it was a fool’s errand.  Despite the terrible creatures and the smiling people, his old world and his new one didn’t seem so different.

“What exactly are Digi-Scavs?” Stiles asked as the day slowly turned into night.  Malia was back again, sharpening her weapons even if she was supposed to be resting.  She gave a little bit of a smile that she quickly tried to cover up.  Stiles had her kinda figured out.  She wasn’t exactly warm, even when it came to her cousin, but she liked talking about fighting.  

“They’re human right,” Stiles continued.  “I mean you’re killing people.”

“Not exactly.  They’re basically unused information at this point.  We call them scavengers because they were on the wrong side of history.”

“T-Storm,” Stiles answered.  He was trying to pick up things as quickly as possible.  Muscle memory was his talent.  It had to be.

“Exactly.  Except not everyone handled the whole lack of tech thing well.  We’re struggling against Stormers, the guys with the tech and the knowledge to use it.  But Scavs were people who overused.  They were addicted to tech in it’s heyday and the addiction didn’t stop after the War.  Except now they’re feeding off old damaged tech.  Navigation systems with no access to gps, trash digi-bodymods.”

“Is that why they look like that?”

“It’s a long way from just changing your hair color.  Anyway, after awhile they got so much tech that they basically became walking crashed computers.  The smart guys at HQ think that the trashed tech somehow linked together which is why they don’t attack each other.  But anything with a lower electronic levels gets their face ripped.  Me personally, I see something jumping at me, I’m gonna hit it.  Person or no person.”

Stiles couldn’t fight her logic, especially after coming face to face with Scavs.  People used to have Bodymod tech like clothes.  It was simple to just change hairstyles, flatten your nose or grow an inch taller with the push of a button.  Stiles only read it in books or from stories of older men.  But now these features were giving birth to dazed, feral creatures.  Stiles was afraid but his father always told him fear was good.

“Fear will make your blood race.  You’ll get more done.”

It was night when they reached the edge of the OC.  Malia had already relayed the message to Danny to turn off the headlights.  They didn’t need any unnecessary attention. Derek came in the back to divvy up weapons.  Stiles peered through the small opening to see outside.  

The sand was replaced with stone and tall buildings surrounded them.  Each one had spaces where windows used to be, vines where metal used to lay and disintegrating concrete everywhere.  Stiles couldn’t fathom the idea that people used to walk the roads and live in the buildings.  Scavs walking aimlessly in and out of the buildings was like a nightmare taking over the scene, but with no image of what used to be in his head, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.  A part of him wished for the small Nil housing back at Sanc.  Maybe that Brett person was really nice.

Kira began giving orders over radio as each truck slowly pulled in.  Stiles listened intently.

“A1 will take point, survey the relay. A2 will back us up.  A3, up high, stomp out the noise.  Keep A4 safe.  A4 is on intel, ground and sub levels. Radio’s on at all times  Extra guard, alright?  We have a ride along.”

“That’s you,”  Derek teased.  But he was right.  Stiles caught about half of that order.  He wanted to help but he wasn’t ready.  There was a split second where he wanted to scream from them to turn around.  But that moment was silenced the moment there was a crossbow in his hand.  He looked up at Malia.

“Ready, Stiles?”

Stiles gulped.  He swallowed everything that told him he couldn’t do it.  He’d beat those doubts to a pulp along with anything standing in his way.

“Ready.”

**  
  
**

Stiles group was relatively quiet.  There were a few Scavs here and there but they were either decapitated by Malia’s axe or shot down from the sky.  Allison’s team was watching over which, according to Danny, meant Allison was shooting while his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother talked each other to death.

   They  stood in a standard formation with Malia in front and Derek at the back, the two heavy hitters making sure nothing snuck up on us.  Danny was right next to him with his medpack and a sidearm.  Stiles was amazed.  He had only seen a gun on two occasions.  The first was when they took him to the mines and the second when they were evacuating them.  Each time it was either follow orders or die and by then, Stiles knew the option he’d go with.

“You guys have guns?”

“No, I have a gun,” Danny answers, eyes still scanning as they walked.

“Why don’t the rest of you, well us?”

“Because bullets are messy, inaccurate and most of all incredibly expensive.”

“Oh, so you have one because we need to medical team member to be the most protected and because it’s hard to accidently axe your friend.”

“You’re catching on quick.  And your sense of humor’s coming back in record time.  I bet Scott will be pleased,”  Danny teased.

It worked.  Stiles was blushing.  Still walking and keeping watch, but blushing.  Did Scott even know he had a sense of humor?  His life had been nothing but putting on a facade for so long, letting out a joke felt like a crime.  But once it was out there and Danny smiled, it made Stiles want to do it more often, be himself more often.  Maybe show Scott who he is when he isn’t damaged.

The team stopped at a metal grate.  It didn’t look significant in any way, except for the gigantic hole that was in the middle.  Everything else looked broken around it so Stiles was confused as to why they were stopping.

“Radio,” Malia commanded.  Danny reached on the side of his pack and handed it to her.

“Guys we got a situation.  Someone’s been down here.”

“Decoy looks untouched too,”  Kira responded back.

Stiles started to catch on quicker with each passing minute.

“You guys have two relays.  One hidden terribly so if anyone goes searching they’ll find the fake one first.”

Stiles was shushed but his brain was still pumping.  The Anchor would build a fake relay posing as the real one.  If anyone would come in and destroy it, they’d still be safe.  He guessed that they probably made periodic trips back to the different cities to fix up the decoys so the illusion wasn’t lost.  But tonight, it was.

“We’re going in,” Malia said, wrapping up her conversation.  “We enter and get to the relay first.  Anything happens we hold our ground for A3.

The group nodded, pulled out flashlights and went underground.  Stiles’ silent fear started to become not so silent the moment he hit the lower level.  He was promised he would never have to be underground again.  But that was before he tried to join the Anchor, before he got swept up in the bravery and heroism.  It was before he knew his mission would take him here.  He held onto his crossbow like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, slowly stepping through the darkness until they found light again.

**  
  
**

Stiles anxiety settled a bit when he entered the room.  It didn’t remind him of the mines at all.  In fact, he wasn’t even sure they were still underground.  It was a catacomb of sorts, a large room made of stone and steel with more cars trucks than he ever thought possible.  The lights were flickering and could showed how vast the space really was.  Stiles was too amazed to worry.  But no matter the emotion, he needed to focus.  Anxiety and excitement be damned,

A few paces later and the ended up at their destination.  There was a glowing silver cylinder on the ground with cords plugged up to a bunch of unseen locations.  It was pulsing, almost like it had a life or at the very least a heartbeat.  Stiles had seen a little tech but nothing this massive.  And it was all that stood in the way of Chris’ haven being wiped out.

Danny set his stuff down next to the relay and took a metal panel off to examine the inside.  Back at Sanc, Chris told Kira that the masking of the signal wasn’t dead, just malfunctioning.  The hope was that one of the wires was faulty and could easily be replaced.  But a four team operation was much safer in a big city than just one.

Stiles lowered himself beside Danny while Malia and Derek scanned the area.  Danny was calm and precise or at least putting on a good front for Stiles.  He could tell that Stiles’ hovering wasn’t just out of boredom so he pointed to one of the parts in the relay that was silver and green.

“That’s basically the core.  See these wires?”  

Stiles nodded and took a closer look.

“Each one is scrambling the signal even more, sending it to a different location only to bounce it back here ten times over.  Now, each wire is needed to make the mask work so if one…”

Danny stopped.  Stiles looked back at him and at the console.  Something was wrong, more wrong than usual.

“Malia, radio.”  She tossed it to him, looking a bit concerned herself.  

“A1.  We have a bigger problem than we thought.”

“Go ahead,” Kira answered back.

“One of the wires.  It’s not faulty.  It was detached.  Whoever did this knew what they were doing.  And I think they...were trying to get us here.”

“Stormers,” Malia whispered to herself.  

A loud creeking was heard in the distance.

“Scavs!”  Derek yelled.  He didn’t need to pick a location.  They were everywhere.  Danny was right.  Someone left a trap for them.

Danny was dragging Stiles between two cars while he watched Derek crack open a Scavs head with a huge metal bat.  They were trying to attack the relay, trying to attack them, and there were too many to count.  A couple seconds of hacking and  slashing and Malia was back to back with him.  Standard Anchor formation.

The radio was going off.

“A3, Scavs heading to the grate, We’re takin em out one by one.”

“It’s A3.  We see them.  Trying to deter.”

“A2!  A2! Fuck it.  Isaac, get your ass over here Kira and Scott need you!”

Scott.  Liam.  Stiles’ mind was racing.  He had to do something.  He had to help.  He couldn’t sit there hiding and afraid.  Fear makes your blood race.  You’ll get more down.

“Stiles!”  Danny called to his left and then he heard a loud bang.  He was in a trance for two long and would’ve been dead if Danny hadn’t been there with his gun.

“Stay focused,” he said.

Stiles looked over and lined up his shot, firing his crossbow in the chest of a Scav that was about to hit Derek from the side.

“I am,” Stiles responded.  “I have a plan.  Tell A...tell Allison’s team to back you up but Allison to stay up top.  Ask Isaac’s team if he can get me to Kira.”

Danny looked stunned.

“Do it!”

Danny got on the radio and made the requests.  Each time complied, concluding with the knowledge that Ethan and Aiden were on their way underground.  Stiles quickly told Danny the rest of his plan.  Danny, even in the midst of the chaos, smiled.

“You’re a crazy son of a bitch, Stiles.  Go!”

Stiles dropped his crossbow and left it with Danny.  He ran sliding under a Scav and into the relay console.  He stayed focused on his objective trusting the Danny would protect him.  Trusting that his team would have his back.  He moved quickly and precisely, unhooking each wire from the core of the relay until it was finally free. Stiles stuffed it in his pants and looked back up at the console.  It was crackling and sparking with all the power no leading nowhere.

Perfect.

“Danny!”  Stiles called for him which triggered him to call for Derek.  Derek smacked down another Scav and tossed his bat to Stiles.  Danny threw Derek the crossbow and took out his sidearm.  When the trade off was complete, Stiles took off running.

“Don’t die,” Danny yelled after him.  But Stiles wasn’t going to.  He promised he wouldn’t waste the chance they gave him.

Stiles ran through the dark tunnel again, remembering the path they took and swiping the bat at anything that didn’t bother speaking first.  He had taken two or three before.a group came running after him.  He knew he couldn’t take them all at once but a few of them got stopped in the tracks.

A whip grabbed one and pulled it down by it’s neck while Ethan used his fist to punch the other.  Aiden stabbed through one’s head with his daggers and the one that escaped their clutches were met with a bat to the kneecaps.

“Go, kid.  Allison’s got you back.”

Stiles nodded and ran.  He reached the surface and it seemed like a horde of Scavs had materialized from nowhere.  Not all of them were attacking since there was a larger number of humans underground, but even the ones that tried him were taken down.  

A Scav that got his hand to Stiles’ throat was met with an arrow to the head.  Stiles looked up at his guardian angel.  Allison pointed in the direction he needed to go and he broke off in another sprint.  He didn’t have a lot of time.

He got to a building a block away and took off up the stairs.  After about three flights he could see Scavs falling to the bottom.  The plan was working.

The blonde girl named Erica was slashing throats, stabbing hearts and tossing them off the ledge.  She was clearing the path as promised and continued until Stiles met up with her.

“Isaac is injured.  Morell’s got him but whatever the hell you’re doing, do it quicker.”

Stiles entered the room and didn’t know what to focus on first.  Scott was cornered, swiping his axe with a crouching Liam behind him.  Morell had Isaac on the floor and was trying to help him while Lydia was on one knee, lining up her gun and shooting anything that came close.  And Kira, well she was a one woman army.

Kira never blinked.  She never took an extra step.  She was like water, moving from one fluid motion to the other and adapting with each new enemy.  The sheer number didn’t deter her.  She had an objective and she completed it.  It was almost like a dance around the fake   relay.

The relay.

Stiles ran, taking just a couple extra steps to pound on a Scav in his way until reached the fake relay.  The relay that was only fake because it lacked a core.

He broke open the panel and began connecting the wires.  Once again, quick but precise.  One by one he connected, trying not to get electrocuted.  He got to the last one but a voice shocked him still.  Everyone became still, actual.

“We are sick.  And we are tired.  And we will win.”  The Scavs kept repeating it over and over, all in the same voice.  Stiles wondered if they ever spoke before but by the look of his teammates around him, it didn’t seem likely.  Only further proof that someone more intelligent was behind this.

And that person appeared like he was being summoned from the shadows.  He was wearing all black including a hood, mask and sunglasses.  He was anonymous but his objective was clear.

“We are sick.  We are tired.  We will win.”

Stiles stood up in front of the console.  His war face was on.  He didn’t know he had one but he decided, in this moment, to put it to good use.

“Hey,asshole! I wouldn’t be too sure about that whole winning thing.  Especially when you take care of your soldiers.”  

3….2….1

A huge explosion came from the site where the original relay was.  Just as planned.  Danny left the med pack water out on the ground to spill and they made a break for it.  Stiles knew it would hit the now unstable console.  He also knew from the first fight that enough Scavs die, the rest back off to regroup.

The anonymous man looked in the direction of the explosion which gave Stiles enough time to attach the last wire and Lydia enough time to fire her gun right in the man’s head.

“Motherfucker,”  She exclaimed.

The rest of the Scavs were scattering.  

“Morell,” Kira called.  

“He’s good enough to walk,” she answered.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

**  
  
  
**

Stiles sat in the struck, looking around at the battle wounds and the tired faces.  He felt proud.  Proud of himself.  He did a lot in a little bit of time and he felt at ease around the people he was with.  He had to if they were going to work together.  And Stiles couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do.

He looked out and noticed the sun was just starting to light up the sky.  And that’s when he thought of the best idea, even better than the core switch.

Stiles moved over and grabbed the radio.

“A1, can we stop the convoys?”

“This is A1.  Any not-stupid reason why?”  

“My sunrise.”  There was a couple seconds that felt like an hour before anyone answered.

“Make it count, kid.”

Stiles didn’t even wait for his truck to completely stop.  He jumped out and rolled a bit on the landing and even that didn’t deter him.  He broke off into a run, dropping clothing every couple of steps until there was nothing else to drop.  Until it was just him and the sun.  The sun he was always destined to see.

“Let’s hear it for out Nil turned Topside Freedom Fighter!!!”  Scott’s words triggered screams of joy and excitement from the trucks.  They banged on the metal, clapped their hands and yelled at the top of their lungs for their new recruit.  Stiles joined in, screaming at the sun, telling it how lovely it was to finally meet.  Explaining that he’d never leave again.  All that in a yell he never knew he could muster.

Stiles looked to his right and out stepped Scott, just as excited and just as naked.

“What are you doing,” Stiles asked, laughing through his words.

“Just thought I should help.”

“With what?”

 **  
**“With your welcome home party.”


	4. The Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Scott's connection is interrupted by the call of his second mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short. Mostly because the next one will be much longer. But it does have the promise of smut later in the story.

The next couple of weeks were exciting in a completely different way.  Stiles earned the respect of Malia, learned more about medical with Danny and, of course could barely keep his eyes off Scott.  Whenever they would take breaks to refuel or regroup, he’d immediately stare off into his direction and Scott would reciprocate.  They were always together when they didn’t have to be separated into teams.  Stiles started to forget what life was like without Scott, even if all they did was stare at each other and talk.

 

One night, while they were taking a bathroom break, Stiles began to walk over to Scott, which mean he was in full view of Liam tossing a water sack at Scott’s head.

 

“Accident,” he exclaimed curtly.  The giggle from Erica and the twins didn’t help.  Scott and Stiles went over to the boy, who was picking up his mess angrily, which naturally only created more.

 

“Little one,” Scott said gently.

 

“Don’t,” Liam snapped.  “You don’t get to call me that.”

 

Scott sighed.  He sat on the edge of the truck, his feet hitting the door.  “Come here.”

 

He didn’t budge.  In fact, he stopped doing his work just to prove a point that he wouldn’t move.

 

“Liam,” Scott said in his gentlest voice ever, “Come. Here.”

 

Liam took a moment to think and then sighed and gave in.  He sat down between Scott’s legs and the moment he relaxed into his chest, all his anger went away.  Scott wrapped his arms around him, like a small child on a cold night and rested his head on top of Liam’s.  Stiles noticed how automatic it seemed, like the two of them did this every time Liam got upset or angry and couldn’t do anything about it.  He couldn’t help but feel relaxed himself just watching it.

 

“What’s wrong?’

 

“Nothing.  Scott, I’m fine.”  But Liam’s words weren’t convincing.  He didn’t have to say anything.  Scott was spending a lot of his time with Stiles, so much that Stiles didn’t really ever see how he and Liam were together.  When they were together, Stiles was away in A4, trying to be part of his own team.  To Liam it probably felt like any time they had to rest, Scott disappeared.

 

“Hey, how do we live,” Scott asked.

 

“In Sanc,”  Liam said sarcastically.

 

“Come on, Little One.  How do we live?”

 

“Together.”

“How do we fight?”

 

“Together.”

 

“We survive.  We love.  We’ll do this.”

 

“Together,” Stiles whispered, almost in echo to Liam.  He saw Scott kiss the top of Liam’s head and send him off to Kira and Lydia.  But everything after that was blurred with tears.  Liam was Scott’s family.  Ethan had his brother Aiden.  Malia had Derek.  They had accepted him, but Stiles was still lacking the one person who could complete him.  He was missing a piece.  

 

Before he knew it he had Scott’s arms holding his shoulders, trying to counteract the blubbering he was doing.

 

“Hey hey, what’s wrong?  Stiles, talk to me.”

 

But he couldn’t.  At least not at first.  Something was pouring out of him that needed to be released for some time now.  The trauma, the pain, the years of believing he was meant to work and die, all of those thoughts were rushing out of him.

 

And his father.  His father who, through his pushing and his protection, decided his fate.  His father gave him the chance to be a part of the Anchor and have a cause.  He was gone.  His father was really gone and it was beginning to tear him apart.

 

Stiles didn’t remember hitting the ground.  He didn’t remember when his breathing became erratic or when Scott began hugging him, as if he was trying desperately to squeeze out all the pain.  But all of the insanity went away the moment Scott’s lips hit Stiles’.

 

It wasn’t answering a question or saving Stiles’ life.  The kiss wasn’t replacing the missing piece within him.  But Scott’s lips tasted like warm water and berries and...home.  It was something Stiles kept being promised and he didn’t see it in Sanc, or the Nil housing or the truck.  He felt it on Scott’s skin and it turned him on and made him feel safe.  It didn’t solve everything but it gave Stiles a spark he never knew he wanted.

 

Their lips parted.  Tears had stopped and began to dry.  Stiles could see out of the corner of his eye that a few others were watching intently.  They were his second priority.  The first was the boy that kept trying to change his life.

 

“Why did you-”

 

“I’m sorry.  You were crying and I wanted to get you to stop and-”

 

“Was that all it was,”  Stiles asked jokingly.  They both chuckled a bit but Stiles needed to get answers from him.

 

“Scott, when I asked why I meant why this?  Why me?”

 

Scott looked confused for a moment, like Stiles was speaking a different.  Then he sighed and used his thumb to wipe a couple more tears away.

 

“Stiles, I didn’t save you because I thought you were cute.  I did it because it’s my job.  Because I believe that people need to know there’s another life besides being tortured to find resources that barely exist anymore.  And then after that, I thought you were cute.  And then after that, I found  out you were amazing.”

 

Stiles let out a breathy sigh.  Scott was saying these words and the feel of honesty was wafting off of him.  Stiles wanted to kiss him again.  He wanted to do more than kiss him, in the middle of the crowd of people, for as long as they could go.  But, with the sight of Liam and Isaac walking up, he decided to just smile and nod, answering the unspoken question of him belonging to Scott now.

 

“ Hey lovebirds. We’re on the move again,” Isaac said, scratching at his bandaged arm.

 

“Back to Sanc, right?”  Stiles tried to escape the smile that was beaming on his face.

 

“You are yeah.  They rest of us are heading back to HQ.  You’ll be with A3.  Kira’s orders.”

 

The rest wasn’t questioned.  Liam helped Scott up while Allison waved Stiles over.  He was confused.  Everyone seemed to stick to the team they were assigned.  Maybe, he thought, he was not yet in a position to do that.  He was still brand new after all.  Maybe they needed to find the part of the puzzle he fit into.

 

He looked over at Scott before walking away.  The boy was staring right back, switching between him and Liam.  Liam finally, gave up and jabbed Scott in the side.

 

“Go on,” he said.

 

Scott walked over and took Stiles in his arms.  They kissed, hard and focused, like nothing else mattered.  He could feel the bulge in Scott’s pants growing and rubbing up against him.  If it weren’t for the people watching.  And soon, Stiles didn’t care about them either.

 

  Stiles was swept up in his feelings.  It was bliss, something that was just a word up until now.

 

“What was that for,” Stiles whispered, his lips still inches away.  “Feels like a goodbye.”

 

“Nope,”  Scott replied.  “Just a taste of what it’ll be like when you see me again.”

  
Stiles smiled.  There was no doubt in his mind


	5. The Strategy Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finds his place in the Anchor, and is put to the test.

With Ethan at the wheel, the truck was moving faster than Stiles was used to.  But, as he could tell by their leader’s face, Allison was not planning on wasting any time.  

 

They had praised Stiles for transferring the tech from the real relay to the decoy, and using the disrupted system as a bomb.  But there was still one snag in his daring rescue.

 

The distance between the fake relay and the real one was an entire city block, and the time it took to detach and reattach the core was just a couple minutes too long.  It was enough time for anyone who was searching for a mass of human signals to find them.  Which meant Sanc was in danger.  The people the Anchor and Stiles were trying to protect were in danger.

 

“Got four of my knives back.  How many did you get off the dead,” Aiden asked, referring to Allison’s arrows.

 

“Twelve,” she said softly.  Something was bothering her but she seemed to be putting it toward her mission rather than let it out like Stiles was doing hours ago.  He wondered if she saw him as weak now.  He didn’t want to be.  He kept feeling the need to impress her.

 

A3 was very different than A4, but Stiles  couldn’t tell if it was just their dynamic or the feeling surrounding the mission itself.

 

Ethan was Danny’s other half and he seemed like the complete opposite of him, stoic and quiet.  Aiden, his twin brother was not someone to cross in a fight.  He was feral and quick to act but it seemed like the Anchor guided his anger toward a cause.  That also seemed like why he respected Allison so heavily.  She was always in control of her actions and precise in her movement.  Fighting was like breathing from what Stiles could gather and it seemed to be something the twins aspired to.

 

Stiles also discovered in the A3 truck that he may have a talent for noticing the simplicity in tech but his greatest ability was learning the simplicity in people.

 

Ethan banged on the window three times, signaling they were 3 minutes away from their destination.  Allison put the quiver over her head as Aiden strapped on as many throwing knives as he could on his body.  Stiles held the metal bat in his hand once again.  It felt right this time.  It felt like his.

 

“We go in hot,” Allison said.   “We go in ready.  Anyone in black, anyone with something irregular about them, we take down hard.  Aiden, I’ll stick to the bed of the truck and provide cover for as long as I can.  You get to the major players.  No holding back.”

 

There was a light that blew up in Aiden’s eyes at that statement.  It was like Allison was letting the reigns off an animal.  Stiles began regretting his decision.  If he had screwed up this hard for everyone to be this battle ready, was he really helping?

 

“What about me,” Stiles said.

 

“You’re sticking with Ethan.  Protecting yourself and anyone you see but staying near the truck.”

 

“But Allison I’m not...I’m not an expert in medical.”  

 

Allison looked confused for a moment.  “Stiles, you’re not medical.  You’re strategy. That’s why we brought you along.  You see a way to take multiple or all of them down at once, you give the order and we’ll follow through.  Alright?  We ready?”

 

Stiles knew the last words were directed at the entire team but he couldn’t help but focus on the ones just for him.  Strategy.  That’s what they felt he was an expert in.  He couldn’t let them down.

 

The scene was worse than they thought.  Stormers in black were bursting through doors while their Scav servants stood at the border of the town.  There a lot of them.  Too many of them of them to stick to the regular strategy they had.  But that is all they had until Stiles could come up with something better.  

 

He had to quickly, before people got hurt.  The idea that people were already hurt just made his mind work faster to solve the problem.

 

The cloth roof disappeared and Allison didn’t waist time.  She started shooting before the truck even stopped.  Ethan screeched to a halt Allison’s arrows got the attention of the Scavs.  Aiden dove over onto the ground, daggers ready to take out as many as he could.

 

Stiles needed time to think but it didn’t seem like he was gonna get much of it.  Scavs started coming over to surround the truck.  He was using his bat, swiping one after the other but it seemed like they just kept coming.  Allison’s only focus was helping Aiden and it made complete sense.  He was targeting the Stormers who were targeting the townspeople.  And they were alive and well trained.  He couldn’t do it alone.

 

“I’m almost out!”  Allison was reaching behind her and felt two arrows max.  Ethan was shooting but he couldn’t use his gun toward her at risk of hitting one of his teammates.  

 

Stiles needed to step up.  He wasn’t a Nil anymore.  He was the man with the strategy.

 

“Go!  We got this,” he said.  Without hesitation, Allison dropped her bow on the bed of the truck.  She reached behind her back and pulled out two long, serrated daggers.  Using one of the Scav’s as a footstool, she jumped to the ground and raced to assist Aiden.  One or two of the Scavs ran after her and signaled some of the others to follow.  

 

Signal, Stiles thought.  They’re all on the same signal!

 

“Mason, stop!”  Stiles heard the call from across the battlefield.  Mason, Liam’s friend was making a break for it.  The dark skinned boy ran fast but was attracting too much attention from the Scavs.  Aiden and Allison wouldn’t get there in time.  Stiles needed to work fast.

 

He took a huge swipe with his bat, hitting a few Scavs so he could make his way off the truck toward Ethan.  

 

“The truck.  Which cable has the most electricity?”

 

Ethan wasn’t paying attention.  He was too busy fending them off.  

 

“What?”

 

“Which color?!”

 

“It’s uh green.  Two cables.”

 

Stiles looked across the field.  Mason was losing steam.  He wasn’t moving fast enough and he had to save him.

 

Stiles smacked a Scav across its elongated jaw and, as it turned around, used the bat to drag it by it’s neck to the front of the truck.  He told Ethan to get back in the driver's seat as he popped open the hood and eyed the green cables.

 

Stiles took a deep breath and, in one swift motion, dropped the bat and kicked the Scavenger away from him.  He ripped up the cables and, just as the Scav came back for more, stuck each one in its mouth.

 

“Turn it on!!!”  

 

Ethan followed suit, turning on the car and shooting a surge of energy through the cables and right through the Scav.  It went through Stiles too.  

 

The last thing he remembered was massive screaming.  He could kind of hear his name but with the sound heard around the town, it was merely a whisper.  And then everything was black.

 

He was back in the mines.  He was working until he realized he was the only one working.  Stiles stopped, turned around and saw all the other slaves were staring straight at him.  They only spoke one phrase.

 

“We are sick.  We are tired.  We will win.”

 

He is scared.  But then he hears another voice.

 

“Stiles...Stiles….Stiles.”

 

“Dad?  Dad!”

 

“Stiles!”  Stiles woke up to the sound of Scott.  He was over him, his hands on his shoulders like the last time they were together, except this time Stiles was laying on a mat on the floor.  His shirt was off and his vision was pretty blurry.  He knew Scott was real, but it would take a moment before everything else became as clear.

 

“Hey,” Stiles said with a exhale and a bigger smile than Stiles had ever seen.  “Welcome back, lover.  Oh, I’ve started calling you lover since you’ve been away.”

 

Stiles smiled.  “How long was I out?”

 

“Two days. They thought...that you might not make it.  But that doesn’t matter now.  Because you’re up”

 

Stiles began to remember everything.  The fight.  The Stormers.

 

“Mason!”  Stiles tried to sit up but his body was incredibly sore.  It also didn’t help that Scott was pushing him back down.

 

“Mason is fine.  Liam’s been staying with him while you’re here.  Everyone is fine.  Thanks to you, Stiles.”

 

“I...did?”

 

“Your electrical charge overloaded their systems, at least the Scavs in the surrounding area.  It even affected the Stormers.  Turns out they were using some communication device to rally them but you burned that out too.  We took out most of them and saved one to interrogate.  It’s all because of you..  You’re slowly becoming the alpha male of the group.”

 

Stiles couldn't take the compliment.  Not when it seemed like there was still work to be done.  

 

“Then we need to go talk to him.”

 

“‘We’ are not going anywhere.  You’re staying in bed and I’m taking care of you.  Stiles you...you did something none of us have ever have.  And you almost lost your life because of it.  Everyone has agreed that you can take a few days off.  Please?”

 

There was something in Scott’s eyes.  Fear.  Fear for Stiles.  Stiles still wasn’t sure why Scott cared so much but the feeling was reciprocal.  He looked at Scott and knew he had been by his side over the two days.  He knew things probably looked grim at one point.  All Stiles was doing was breathing and looking yet Scott was so excited about it.  

 

Stiles nodded until he nodded into a kiss.  Scott’s lips were inviting and though he didn’t remember being comatose for two days, Stiles felt like he missed what it was like to be touched by someone who wanted nothing more than to feel this physical connection.

 

Stiles pulled Scott closer until he was completely straddling him.  Scott lowered himself.  His shirt was touching Stiles’ skin and he was using his hands to rub all over until he could hear Stiles moaning in the middle of the kiss.

 

Stiles’ mouth opened slightly, allowing Scott’s tongue to move around as it pleased.  He could feel Scott’s hand go under his pants while his tongue licked the Stiles’ lower lip.  The combined sensations were breath taking.

 

“I thought I was taking some days off,”  Stiles teased, breathy and excited.

 

“You are.  But I also said I was here to take care of you.”

 

Scott lowered himself right at the edge of Stiles’ pants.  His tongue teased Stiles’ stomach and only when Stiles began to writhe and laugh at the wonderful feeling did he undo the string and pull them down, exposing Stiles to the cold of Scott’s home.

 

Scott’s warm mouth countered that cold once it was on Stiles.  Stiles let out a gasp as Scott lowered himself down the entire shaft and slowly rose back on.

 

Bobbing up and down, Scott moved insanely slowly, giving Stiles so much pleasure he could hardly stand it.  Every once in awhile he’d stop and just move his tongue around the head.  He looked up a couple times and Stiles knew he face was hiding none of the feelings he had.  He wasn’t going to last much longer.

 

“Scott, please.  I think I’m gonna...Scott I-”

 

Stiles’ sentence was stopped short by his own moaning in pure ecstasy.  It clearly wasn’t Scott’s first time because he switched to his hand right before so that the cum ran down it and onto Stiles’ chest.

Stiles was expecting him to walk away, find something to wipe them off with and keep everything neat and clean but instead, Scott just rose back up to meet Stiles’ eyes again.  

 

They didn’t say anything for a while.  Stiles didn’t know what to say.  The only thing that came to mind was asking Scott if he was actually real.  But everything they were going through together was all the proof he needed.  And those dark brown eyes looking back at him made the craziness go away.  Stiles wouldn’t dare question the validity of that.

 

“Was that your first time? Doing that?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I mean we did rescue you.”

 

“Yeah...yeah it was.”

 

Stiles smiled, which made Scott smile too.  Stiles wanted to get better soon, so that Scott could be his first for everything.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to find a good balance between fluff smut and story. I hope I'm doing a good job!


	6. The Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Stiles recovers, the Stormers show how dangerous they can really be.

Stiles movement was slowed a bit after his daring adventure.  Standing and walking around for a long period of time made him feel weak and as much as he was grateful for Scott, he didn’t want to rely on. He proved to Malia, to Allison, to everyone that he could do his job.  Being slowed down could only be a small speed bump.  People couldn’t be waiting on him his whole life.

As far as people talking to him, Stiles had also had his fill.  But that was one request  he couldn’t ask for.  

People were praising him whenever he simply went outside for air.  He knew every person’s name in Sanc after just a short time and whenever Scott wasn’t around to help him out, Mason was practically stalking him.  It had gotten around to the boy that Stiles saved everyone, but his main objective was to save him.  Stiles didn’t mind the company.  He wondered if he was feeling a small taste of what Scott and Liam felt.

The teams were grateful, and they showed their gratitude whenever possible but the fight wasn’t exactly over.  It took about a week or so, but, with Mason’s Stiles finally felt he had enough strength to sit in on one of the interrogations.  They weren’t pretty, but Stiles had seen worse.  He felt worse.

The Stormer, for all intents and purposes, looked like a normal tortured civilian.  He was pale, like a Nil, with hair on his face and head that was white and scraggly.  He wouldn’t give his name.  Something about there only being “we” and no longer “I” but he was at least speaking.  He showed signs of intelligence and understanding, which to Stiles was a mistake.  An intelligent person could be reasoned with and also pushed to do almost anything.

By the time Stiles had seen him he looked like he had been through the worst of it.  His eyelid had been sliced open and there were cuts over his arms that looked particular and precise.  Maybe they were checking for other tech that could be dangerous to the people of Sanc. If so, they weren’t pulling punches just because he was still human.  

It was hard for Stiles to see the damage done to him.  There was fresh blood mixing and pouring over the dried bits.  His breathing was shallow and harsh, like his lungs were taking the most damage from this.  Most of it Stiles wasn’t used to seeing, at least not all once.  But his eyes were incredibly familiar.

Even through the pain, Stiles could see that the his eyes were full of hatred.  Not because of what they had done to him, it went deeper than that.  The mere sight of Stiles walking into the room made the man practically fume.  It was just like the guards in the mines.  Stiles didn’t do anything wrong to any of these people, but there was this nature instilled in them that he and everyone he cared about were innately inferior or wrong and needed to be destroyed.  Stiles stared into the man’s eyes and felt less and less sorry for his wounds.

“So this is the man who took out your whole operation,” a man said from the shadows.  He was looking through papers in the corner of the room so silently that Stiles didn’t know he was there until he spoke.  

Stiles only recognized him from the stories Stiles and Liam had told him.  He was darker than Stiles, bald head and very calming eyes.  He had to be Deaton, the founder of the Anchor. Stiles was staring in the face of his own boss.

Deaton smiled a warm smile toward Stiles which, under the circumstances, were a little creepy.  There was a bleeding enemy in the middle of them, but Deaton was not one to forget formalities.  Stiles could tell just by the way he moved, he was cautious and precise.  About as precise as the surgical cuts all along the Stormer.

So he’s the chief interrogator, Stiles thought.

There was an odd balance in the room.  Stiles was the one that allowed the man to be captured and though he did it for the people of Sanc, he also, by association, did it for Deaton.  Deaton looked pleased and it was welcoming.  But Stiles didn’t know the man at all.  And their first meeting involved of prisoner of war.

“This Stormer has been giving us some good info, Stiles,” Deaton exclaimed.  The Stormer spat blood at Stiles’ feet who still didn’t his reflexes strong enough to move out of the way.

“Did you find out whether he made contact with any of his allies?”

“As far as talking, he’s done little but it seems like any strikes on us are gonna be on hold for a while, thanks to you.”

Stiles looked away at the compliment Deaton was throwing.  He didn’t need another thank you.  He just wanted adjust to life and the praise seemed to be pushing him more and more away from it.

Stiles eyed the Stormer.  There was a twitch.  A small one, but enough for someone who was really paying attention to pick up on.  Someone like Stiles.

The Stormer had, at least for a moment, smiled.

“You’re wrong,”  Stiles said.  His heart began racing.

“What?”

“There’s something he’s not telling us.”

“Stiles I-”

Stiles waved his hand, shushing his boss.  He didn’t mean to but he needed to think.  The man was smiling because he had an advantage.  It had been a long time since the attack on Sanc so they clearly weren’t able to find the haven.  The signals were still masked.  But there were still signals that weren’t masked.  Signals that were small but if someone were looking for them were easy to find.  Signals that converged on a group of Stormers during an attack.

“The trucks!”

Deaton’s eyes acknowledged Stiles’ train of thought.  The Stormers weren’t looking for the haven.  They were looking for the only people who frequently went back and forth.  

Deaton told Stiles to find Gran and while he radio the trucks.  Stiles ran out of the shack, but he was moving too fast for his body to handle.  It only took a few steps before he started to collapse.  Mason was right there helping him up and calling his name, probably worried that Stiles might lose consciousness.

“Get...Gran,” Stiles exhaled.  Mason’s face knew it was trouble.  He nodded and ran off.   Stiles tried to get his bearings. He was part of the Anchor.  He had to do something besides call in the calvary.

He didn’t get all the way up before Deaton returned and assisted him.

“They’re were heading back and now their under fire.  I told them to turn around but someone clouded my radio signal.”

  
“I did.”  Gran said, coming from the med wing, a huge gun in hand.

“Alan, you have protected us enough.  It’s time for us to do the same.  It’s time for me to protect my daughter.”

Before Deaton or Stiles could refuse, the three of them spotted the trucks in the distance.  They were driving at top speed and there were cycles and cars tailing them.  The gunshots and screaming were unmistakable.  So Gran walked forward and took command.

“Sanc!!! Help our saviors! Be their support!  They are the Anchor but this ship, this ship has CANNONS!”

The trigger word was heard and every adult stepped out of their homes, guns ready.  They took up their positions.  They looked like they had been practicing their entire lives.

They lined up their shots like pros and waited until the trucks got closer.  Then, at the perfect distance, a war cry was heard, echoing throughout Sanc.  The citizens fired on everything that wasn’t a huge brown truck.

People were being taken out like bugs.  The Stormers didn’t have time to adjust.their shots duck for cover.  Bullets were firing from a distance from people who clearly were trained and it left most of the cars and cycles defenseless or dead.  

Stiles was amazed at the fire power coming from the haven.  Their sheer will seemed to be curving the bullets to destroy their enemies.  He had a flash of the miners and the rebellion that should’ve been.  He wondered what would’ve happen to him if they had rose up like Sanc was rising up now.  Maybe things would’ve somehow ended up exactly the same,

Stiles peered into the distance.  There were a couple cars left, still tailing the trucks but one stopped completely.  A Stormer got up on top of it with a weapon that was so tall, it only fit over his shoulder.  Stiles couldn’t do anything but watch him line up his shot. The large piece in the front fired and flew right into one of the trucks.

“No!!!”  Stiles screamed but it was drowned out by the sound of the explosion.  The truck lifted in the air a few feet just to come crashing back down.

Stiles had no energy left.  He had no feelings in his arms or legs and yet something was taking him over.  Something was running him into the field of battle.  Something was denying the sounds of Deaton, denying the sounds of the gunshots, still firing on the last bit of Stormers.  He couldn’t see anything but the flames overtaking the truck and he wouldn’t see anything until he figured out who was inside.  

His tunnel vision was intense.  He blocked everything and everyone out.  But he kept moving, further and further until the heat of the car was warming his skin.  He was ready to walk into the flames, face first.  He needed to,  he needed to help them.

Someone grabbed him around his waist and began pulling him back.  He resisted until it became a battle of strength.  The person was calling his name over and over but they weren’t letting him go.  Stiles needed to be let go.  He began screaming, over and over again.

“No!!! No!!! No!!!”

The person adjusted until Stiles was facing him.  

It was Scott.  Scott was alive.  It wasn’t his truck.

Stiles’ body still wasn’t his own.  He was still screaming and Scott was still calling his name.  It took a few seconds until his hearing started to come back.

“Stiles!  It was Isaac!”  Scott was crying heavily.  He was breaking too.   “It was A2.  It was Isaac.  It’s Isaac.  

Stiles lowered Scott to the ground.  Scott was heaving, tears overflowing onto Stiles.  The heat of the car, the wet warmth of Scott’s tears, the feeling of loss in his gut; all of it was too much Stiles.  Something broke within him.  And whatever was in control of his body, got back up.

He took a knife from Scott’s pocket and walked over to the car.  He sat the blade in the fire for a few seconds and then turned around.  He heard Scott’s footsteps following him but none of it matters.  One thing did matter.  Answers.

He burst in the shack and pointed the knife at the imprisoned Stormers’ throat.  The heat from the blade was clearly burning him.

“When are they coming,” he asked.  The man was trembling in pain and could barely get words out.

“We..are sick.  We….are...tired-”

Stiles kicked him straight in the chest and he and the chair fell over.  Stiles straddled him, this time putting the entire hot knife onto his face. The man screamed in agony.  

“When are they coming?!”

“A wwww-week.  The trip will take a week!”  

Stiles took the knife off of him.  The man slowly started to catch his breath.  As soon as he did, the hating eyes began to reemerge.

“We are sick. We are-”

Stiles raised his hands high and plunged the serrated knife right through the Stormers chest.  The man choked on his own blood a few times before drifting away.

“You are sick,” Stiles whispered.

He turned around to find Scott and Deaton.  They had seen the whole thing.  Scott’s eyes were wide and Stiles couldn’t tell if it was because of him, or Isaac’s team or both.  But it didn’t matter now.  What mattered is that they had days to figure everything out.  Days to come to a solution.

“Try to bury what’s left of them,” Stiles commanded.  “We need to be ready.”

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left! The final battle. Well kinda. Hope you're enjoying this!


	7. The War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and the people of Sanc face their final battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally stayed late at work just to finish this. Also there's like a mini epilogue. Either way I hope you enjoy the end of this crazy ride!!

It was dawn.  The town was extremely quiet but there was something about it that Stiles enjoyed.  The wind whistled by his ears as the sun started to heat up the area.  Stiles gazed in the window of Scott’s home.  It was supposed to  be  his too but Stiles didn’t feel very comfortable.

Stiles had spent much more energy than he had on the day of the attack and so most of the time regrouping he spent in an old wheelchair that was collecting dust in the med wing.  The slight obstacle didn’t stop him from being a major part of the process.  He had impressed Deaton to the point that it was him, Stiles, Kira and Chris at the head of the war meetings.  Kira handled the skilled warriors, Chris handled the civilians, Deaton was the expert on resources which included other Anchor squads and their proximity to Sanc, and Stiles was the master of strategy.  He spoke to the three of them more than he spoke to anyone else, and that included Scott.

They were together for just a small moment during the funeral.  Deaton talked about his sister Morell and Kira spoke about finding Isaac and Erica together, like siblings with no place to go.  Everyone stared at the tombstones of wood, rock and steel.  Then there was silence, nothing but the wind and the sand and Scott’s hand clasping his and Liam clasping Scott’s.  

To anyone else they probably looked like a regular family.  Some kid who slept with a girl long before he realized his attraction for men.  Then finding love with someone else but still having this son, a memory of who he was and what he’d been through.  But that was all fabricated.  The wheelchair, the graves, the tears, those were symbols of what they had been through.  Stiles’ tunnel vision was there to make sure those things were never used again.

The sun rising over Stiles was the only other time after the funeral that he was able to really look at his makeshift family.  Stiles was lying on the bed, his arms holding Liam.  Each time Liam would make a whimper or a moan, Scott would cover him more just to make sure he’s ok.  Liam had seen a lot, been through so much death and was still living through the pain.  Stiles had a moment where he wished neither of them knew what that felt like.

Mason walked up to Stiles and didn’t speak.  He seemed like he didn’t want to spoil the peaceful moment either.  He crouched down and placed his head on Stiles shoulder.  Stiles kissed Mason on top of his head.  Mason and Stiles were linked now, whether he liked it or not.  Stiles had mixed feelings about his foster family after everything but he knew one thing.  He needed them.

“You ready,” Mason whispered.

“Yeah.  Come on.”

Stiles was training Mason to fight, but he was also training himself.  Every chance they got, Stiles would talk to Mason about lifting and digging and fighting off pain in the mines made him stronger.  Then he would get up and, for as long as he could, spar with Mason.  He would train Mason to use his speed and and smallness over brute strength and he’d try to gauge how long he could go standing and moving around in a real battle.

It didn’t seem to be any easier as time went.  Stiles only had a few days to get better and to get Mason strong enough to fight.  There was no time to do anything and he was frustrated.  He didn’t ask for this responsibility but he wasn’t going to waste time trying find a way out of it.  Three people had already died.

Stiles was out of breath, he was trying to push past it but he could see that Mason wasn’t going to let him.  It had only been an hour or two and Stiles needed to get stronger.  But as soon as his butt hit the chair, his body relaxed and he felt like he had been beaten all over again.  He wasn’t going to be able to do this.

Mason’s arms were suddenly around his neck.  He didn’t even realize he needed comforting or that tears were coming out of his eyes but Mason did.  His own personal “little one” who cared about him more than himself could see that Stiles’ heart was breaking.  He wasn’t going to be a part of this fight.  If Stiles wanted to win, he needed to stick to the sidelines.  And that felt like moving backwards.  It felt like the mines again.  It felt like he’d sit underground until everyone he cared about died.  It felt like they were already dead.

“Mason?  I think...I think I got this.”

Mason turned around to Scott’s words from across the field.  The both of them shared some kind of mental conversation and Mason nodded and walked back into town.  Stiles was somehow afraid to look in Scott’s eyes.  There was something there that he felt he needed to stay away from, at least until after they won the day.

Scott walked up to him and stood there in silence until Stiles gave up and looked back at him.  Scott was trying to hold it together just as much as he was.  And it was clear they were both exhausted.

“So is this why you’ve been avoiding me?  Trying to do hyper physical therapy in seven days so you can go back to cutting and stabbing?”

“I’m just trying to get stronger.  They’re expecting a lot outta of me.  You are too.”

“Then let me help.”

“No,” Stiles snapped.  He didn’t mean to; it was just a jerk reaction though, if he were to explain that they’d be talking for hours.

Scott took a deep breath.  “Stiles we can’t doing this.”

Stiles heart sank.

“We have to talk.  You have to talk to me.  If we might...if we might die, we can’t let this be the last words we say to each other.”

Stiles couldn’t look at him again.  Scott said what he had been thinking for days.  They could die.  They could all day and the town could be wiped out.   There were about eleven trained soldiers, the rest were refugees and even then there could be hundreds coming to kill them all.  It was a reality no one wanted to face.  But it was there all the time.  Stiles couldn’t hide it anymore.

“Scott,” Stiles broke, “the way you looked at me when I...killed that man.  You looked at me like I was...I don’t want you to think I’m a monster.”

“I never thought that.”  That made Stiles shoot his  eyes back to Scott’s direction.

“Stiles, I’m not going to lie to you.  You can do things I can’t and that scares me a bit.  But I’m not stupid.  The Anchor isn’t a superhero or a savior.  It’s just a leg up so people have a better chance of running for their lives.  And to do that we need people who can do what you do.  Even if that means killing people, killing humans.”

Stiles was speechless.  He wanted to say everything but he continued to open his mouth only to let air and confusion go out.  Scott got on his knees and continued.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you this..but I feel like it’s only right.  It’s about the night we saved you.”

Stiles felt like a dam was bursting in his mind.  There cracks and leaks here and there, thoughts and small memories of what it was like there.  But he never allowed himself to really say anything about it aloud.  And yet Scott, the one that loved him, the one that kisses him, was ready to rip the bandaid  and speak on it.  

Scott took a moment, clearly trying to find the right words.

“When we were saving everyone, trying to save everyone, there was an unexpected complication.  We had heard about the mine through one of our contacts and were told that the owners and guards were going to be away from the slaves, from you, for at least an hour.  They were misinformed and they caught us in the middle of our plan.  We were ready for a fight but were also pretty aware that we might lose. That’s when they hit you.”

Stiles began to remember.  The dark faces were becoming bright again.  He remembered names, friends.  They were more than friends; they were family, loved ones, all with terrified faces.  Terrified and angry.

**  
  
**

“You were the catalyst,”  Scott said.  “They hit you with some kind of tranq gun.  No one knew if it was full of sedatives or poison or whatever but you were on the floor fighting to stay conscious.”

“Scott, what are you talking about?  Catalyst for what?”

“For their rebellion.”

Scott’s words seemed to transport Stiles back to the original moment.  It was blurry and slowed down but he could see it.  He really did see it.

“Your father screamed.  Something about them being better than this, more than this.  The others looked to him, looked at you, and followed suit.  They threw rocks and pushed down boulders.  Attacked with tools and metal bowls.  In an instant, because of you, they were an army.”

“Then why...didn’t you help them?  Why didn’t you save them,”  Stiles asked.  His voice was breaking.  Tears were welling up all over again.

“Because your dad changed our mission. We were ready to charge with the rest but he stopped us.  Told us this was their fight and we had a bigger one to do.  He told us we couldn’t afford to lose one of our own.  Even shut Kira up.”

Stiles laughed at that.  His eyes were still pouring as he continued to listen.

“He picked you up in his arms and gave you to me. He looked at me and...and Liam and asked me if he was my son.  I didn’t even think about it.  Just said yes.  And he told me to promise him.  He said, ‘Keep mine safe too.’”

Stiles and Scott stared at each other for awhile.  That’s where the affection started.  That’s why no was surprised when Stiles wanted to fight and protect his new home.  That’s why he had Scott to watch over him.  His father was always watching over him.  He even sent someone to love him.  

But it was more than just Scott.  Stiles realized he was his father’s child.  He realized that he had a legacy to uphold and even if they didn’t tell stories of his dad or whisper about him saving the day or becoming some type of superhero, he was a hero.  The Anchor didn’t save his life.  His dad did.

~~~~~

The sun started to set on the last day.  They had already set up an order of people keeping watch.  The next day was the expected start of the battle but it wasn’t safe to wait.  It wasn’t like anyone could sleep anyway.

Everyone in the town stood in a crowd.  It was hard to tell who was officially part of the Anchor and who wasn’t anymore.  There was no stirring or whispering of happy times.  Everyone was focused, battle ready and resting their grateful eyes on Gran, Deaton and Stiles.

Gran was moving forward to speak.  Stiles, in respect and honor, decided to stand out of his wheelchair to listen.  It took him a second to get his strength and he could see Scott, Liam and Mason ready to walk up and help him, but he shook his head.  He needed to do this.  He needed to be the person his father raised.

“I am your Gran.”  His voice was booming and filled the entire town.  “But I was born Chris.  Many of you may not know this but I was born luckier than most.  Government born, I was taught that these people. you all, were the problem.  And then I found the Anchor.  I found my wife and created my daughter and realized that they are the problem.  The Stormers, the Govs, the Slavetraders are all trying to take the one thing that makes us great.  The ability to carve our own path.  Tonight, we stand ready to protect that right.  Tonight I look at my daughter Allison as a warrior again.  I look at you all as warriors.  Tonight we decide who we are.  We are no longer protected by the Anchor.  We are a battleship.  And we will win this war!!!”

The roar of the crowd was intoxicating.  Stiles could feel it.  He wanted desperately to make up for the battle he missed.  This was his chance.  He needed to know he could do this.  Just like his father had.

The night seemed to drag on.  Stiles could barely get to sleep, even when he was given the chance.  The night was way too quiet which made him feel like he had to be on high alert.  Any sign of movement or noise and he had to be ready to pull the alarm.

Mason insisted on being on the same watch rotation with him.  Stiles wanted to decline the invitation but Mason talked about how fast he was and strong and smart and talked to the point that Stiles only said yes to shut him up.  He smiled as he remembered seeing Scott’s face that seemed to say “Now you know how it feels.”

Still, Stiles kept the boy by his side, even though he ended up sleeping with his head on Stiles’ lap.

Mason stirred a bit, and then let out a sigh, like trying to stay awake was harder than he imagined.

“Stiles,”  he whispered.

“What’s up, kid?”

“Do you think it’ll work?  Do you really think we’re all gonna survive?”

Stiles sighed.  They were in the thick of things.  There was no time to lie.

“No.  We won’t all survive.  I’m gonna protect you and you’ll protect me.  Liam and Scott have each other and the like.  But people are gonna blink.  They’re gonna slip up and get scared and worry.  They’ll lose. We’ll lose people.  But yeah, our plan is going to work.”

They both allowed the words to sink in.  It wasn’t easy to face the truth but it had to be.  The only way to survive was to accept that some people wouldn’t.  That way, when you saw them slip away, you’d keep moving.

There was a distant rumbling.  It was like an engine that was steadily getting louder and louder, even though in the night there was nothing to be seen.  It didn’t matter.  There were no more reinforcements.  Everyone was either asleep or on watch.  This was the enemy.  It was time.

Stiles wheeled over as Mason ran ahead and sounded the alarm, a crashing of metal scrap that, collectively, could probably be heard from the enemy’s vehicle.  Good, Stiles thought.  Let us be heard.

He got into the med wing and Scott was there with a bunch of other townsfolk.  They let loose a skylight and carried a ladder over to it.  Each of them helped Stiles up each rung and got his chair up there as well.  

In front of him was a makeshift megaphone large enough to be heard by his entire army and a piece of paper with Sanc drawn on it.  There was a grid over it with a number in each square.  Stiles knew he really needed to trust in his title of Master of Strategy.

Behind him was Scott, making sure he was ok and safe with a gun next to the chair.  Stiles didn’t have time to be grateful.  That wasn’t part of the strategy.  

“Scott.  Scott!  Go.  Have a job to do.”  Scott nodded at his orders and headed over to the skylight.  Stiles watched and suddenly became more anxious than he anticipated.  

“Hey, Scott?  Just...come back, ok?”

“Always,lover,”  he said with the same smirk.  Stiles focused on that smirk.  He focused on doing everything in his power to see it again.

The Stormer army was massive.  They were clearly ready to execute everyone in town.  There were four trucks, probably filled with a dozen stormers or so.  Each truck was surrounded by massive amounts of Digi-Scavengers.   They were running around the same pace as the trucks.  Four generals and a bunch of expendable foot soldiers.

Just like Deaton predicted.

Once they reached the target area, the Anchor trucks came with full speed and full force.  Kira’s, Allison’s, Malia’s and Deaton’s trucks plowed through the Scavs at different angles until they reached their target.  They slammed right into the enemy trucks until they came to a crashing halt.

“Tear them apart!”  Stiles screamed into the megaphone.  Every citizen of Sanc burst through their homes.  They had axes, spears, knives and more.  Every makeshift weapon they could find, including a sprinkling of guns with every last bullet they had.  They charged at the Scavs and shot bullets into the trucks, forcing the attention back onto them.  The Stormers did as manipulated and left the trucks alone.

It was time for Stiles to do his job.  Scott, Kira, Malia and Allison were out near the trucks, but the other six remaining Anchor members and Gran were each in a different section of Sanc, taking the brunt of the attack.  They were generals of their field, with Mason and Liam acting as co-generals for their sector.  Then, when an unoccupied sector started to get in trouble, Stiles stepped in.

“Aid to Eight!”  He watched as Derek and a handful of people moved south to help people in danger.  

“Med to Eleven!”  Lydia shot her way over to the sector as Danny took over her area.

There were more dead Scavs then dead citizens but there were more of them to begin with.  Stiles had to stay focused but his skin kept crawling.  He watched as people screamed in agony.  Faces were ripped to shreds, limbs were bitten and bloody and weapons were turned against some people.  Stormers needed three people max to be taken down.  It was hard to tell which side was winning.  

“We need more time,”  Stiles whispered.  He turned to his right, over to the shack where they interrogated the Stormer.  

“ETA,”  he called.  

“Two minutes,”  Deaton yelled back.  Stiles worried.  They may not have two minutes.

“Mason!”  Stiles heard in the distance.  

No.  Please no, he thought.

Stiles looked over and Mason was bleeding.  Liam was carrying him, pulling him back and trying to fend off enemies at the same time.  He wasn’t doing too well.

“Aid to one.  Aid to one, now!”

Ethan was the first to respond. He shot his way over, smacking Scavs with the side of his gun to get closer and closer.  He got over to them and let off a few more rounds before signaling a few townsfolk to help Liam back to the Med wing.  

They went off, running as fast they could.  But as soon as Stiles let out a breath of relief he lost it.  A Scav came to the back of Ethan, mouth first, and bit him right in the neck.

Liam screamed as he kept moving.  Danny and Aiden looked over and cried almost the same way.

“Ethan!”  
  


“Ethan, no!!”

Stiles heart was breaking.  There were so many people.  So many faces turning to darkness again.  These were his friends, family and loved ones.  He wasn’t asleep this time.  He was the leader.  He needed to lead.

“Aid to one, two, three and four. Hold the line, now!  Deaton!”

“One minute.”

Stiles had to think quickly.

_One general dead.  One wounded with another aiding him._

Stiles pounded on his legs.

_The rest need to hold the line.  Keep the Scavs away from the trucks and kill as many Stormers as possible._

Stiles stood up gun in hand.

_With them doing that, and Deaton working on cracking the signal, there’s no one to give the signal to Scott.  He won’t hear me from up them._

__

Stiles dropped through the Skylight, landing painfully on his side.

_If they can clear a path, I can do it.  I can do this._

The energy in his blood spiked.  He had to hold on to the adrenaline.  At least a little longer.

“Stiles?”  Liam looked confused as Stiles stood up.  Stiles didn’t have time to explain.

“Count to thirty.  Then go up and tell them to clear a path.”

Liam nodded and Stiles ran to the shack.  His legs felt less like led the further he ran.  He didn’t know if he was becoming stronger or numb but nothing was going to get in his way.

He popped in and Deaton was pushing buttons on some kind of tech.

“Deaton?  Deaton!”

“Just a second.”

“We don’t have a-”

“Got it. I’m in.  Locked on to the signal used by the Scavs and the Stormers.”

“Give the message.”

Stiles ran.  He didn’t hear anything.  He simply focused on the feeling of his feet and the lining of his shot. He fired at each oncoming Scav, hit them through with it when he had to reload and even got in a Stormer or two.  But the main objective was running.  He ran and ran as fast as he could.

“Three...Three and two, clear the way!”  

Liam had done his job and Lydia and Danny gathered a few people to push the Scavs back.  Stiles ran through was almost no resistance.  He got passed the crowd of people, passed the debris and dead bodies until he reached the trucks and then the center of them.

It was a very different thing to see his plan up close.  Each truck was hit specifically and created a circle.  Each one full of very flammable and all surrounding the relay from the Old City.

“Stiles?  What the hell are you doing over here,”  Scott called.

“It’s time.  Deaton is giving the signal to attack the relay.  You have to turn it on.

Scott gave a confused look.

“Now!”  Kira, Malia and Allison moved on Stiles’ command.  They turned it on and faced their respective trucks, each with a gun in hand.

Stiles turned around and it happened just as he thought.  The Scavs disobeyed any further order.  They simply stopped attacking whoever they were after and turned right around for the overcharged  relay. They were running in a wave, almost trampling each other to get to attack whatever large group of people they thought were harboring the signal.

Stiles looked back at Scott who still hadn’t moved.  He was staring Stiles in disbelief.

“Stiles if this...if this doesn’t work, we’ll be massacred.  Kira, Malia, Allison, we all knew that going in but that was also why I wanted you as far away as possible.  I don’t want this for you.”

“I don’t want that for you either.  So let’s make sure this works.”

The Scavs were feet away as Stiles kissed Scott with all the passion he could muster.   He grabbed the back of his neck and felt as Scott used his left hand to hold Stiles’ waist.  His right hand stretched out and, with the other three girls, let out an entire clip into the engine of their truck.

The explosion caught everything in its path.  Scavs and Stormers blew up in seconds.  The trucks fired off one after the other.  And all of it, even the seering heat seemed irrelevant.  There was just Stiles and Scott.  There was just the kiss.  There was just their love.  This rebellion would be a success whether they won or not.  Stiles had something to fight for.

As he kissed Scott he thought of one thing.

“Thanks Dad.”

~~~~~~~

It was Day three and there was still worked to be done.  People carried bodies to burned in the pit.  They had more funerals than meal times.  Gran wanted to make sure every few townsfolk got their thanks and recognition.  The trucks became a monument.  The Circle of Fire, a remeberance for Stiles and his father and a warning to any Stormer that wanted to pray on an innocent village.  Sanctuary was no where near innocent.

Stiles didn’t help at all though.  He simply sat at his old command station, all bandaged up and bright eyed, looking over at the home he fought for the right to have.  They all seemed so busy above on the Med Wing.  But they didn’t seem small.  Stiles saw them as giants.

Scott came up and kissed Stiles on the cheek before he sat down beside him.  He kept scratching at his bandages.  He clearly wasn’t used to having burn marks.  Stiles smirked.  He hoped it was the last time he would think of how the mines shaped him but he knew that was probably just a fantasy.

“So, lover, you’ve saved the day.  A few days actually.  What do you want to do  now?  Ya know, besides me.”

Stiles laughed.  “Besides that?  Nothing much.  Except for what I told you yesterday.”

Scott got a bit more serious.  “You sure?”

“Yeah.  You don’t know.  And I definitely don’t know.  I have a home now and I know that’s not going away.  I think it’s time I go and figure everything else out.”

“What are we figuring out?”  Stiles turned around at the voice he heard.  Liam and Mason were smiling, their eager little heads popping through the ceiling.

“You’re not figuring out anything,”  Stiles scolded.  “You both have to heal.  Especially since one of you was almost cut open.”

Mason scoffed.  “Oh come on!  We’re all injured.  But you know what they say:  Adventure speeds up the healing process!”

Stiles smiled, being pretty sure no one says that.

“The town doesn’t need the Anchor anymore and Deaton said we don’t have to be reassigned.  So technically we’re retired,”  Liam said.  “So what do you say, Dads?  Family adventure?”

Stiles and Scott looked at each other.  They knew their options were either say yes or have stowaways.  

“Fine.  You can come.”

Mason and Liam yelled in excitement, Mason trying not rip his stitches.

“So what are we doing,”  Mason asked.  Stiles looked at him and sighed.

**  
“We’re gonna find out what happened to my father, what happened to all of them.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Will I make a sequel? I don't know. I did kinda set myself up for that didn't I? We'll have to see but for now this section at least is complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be Kind!!!


End file.
